Miles Therion
by Orphus
Summary: What if Pan had had a son before he died? What if he was just like a demigod, but had powers no other demigod had, and was the same age as Percy? Miles has some connections that will blow your mind I hope . REVIEWS NEEDED!


What if Pan had had a son before he died? What if he was just like a demigod, but had powers no other demigod had, and was the same age as Percy? And what if he knew Annabeth before Percy did? This is a thing off of the top of my head, and I have too much spare time. Sorry if it's cliché. REVIEWS NEEDED!

Miles Therion walked down the street leading to the Empire State building, a determined look in his eyes. A thousand tourists hung around the building like a swarm of flies over a piece of flesh. Miles was a regular kid in his thirteen's, despite his short messy reddish black hair and rectangular glasses, and the only thing that would appear unnatural about him would be his eyes. His eyes were a startling light grey, and as a shadow passes over his face, his eyes flashed silver, making two adults that were watching him, jump. Miles smiled to himself. He enjoyed making people surprised and jump a lot. A couple of teenage girls giggled when he passed. He flashed them a small grin, and the girls started whispering and giggling. When Miles reached the doors to the Empire State building, he was hesitant. He stood in front of the doors for five minutes, making a decision that could either kill him, or buy him more time. It was a no brainer. Miles walked away, and called a taxi by whistling through his fingers. The other people around him covered their ears. A taxi drove up and Miles got inside

"Long Island please," He said. The driver turned in his seat to look at the boy.

"You do know that Long Island is two hours away, right?" the guy said, lowering his shades. Miles nodded and handed the man a wad of bills.

"Paid in advance," He said, fingering his pocket. The taxi driver didn't say another word the whole trip. Miles pressed his forehead against the cool glass of the window, and watched the city of New York fly by. _I haven't been to Half-Blood Hill in, well, ever. I wonder if Annabeth, Thalia, Luke, and Grover made it. I guess I'll find out won't I?_ He brooded. Miles sat up as the cab crossed a bridge. He stuck a hand in his pocket and took out a thick white switch-blade. The handle was white, and the knife was sheathed in its socket. Miles took a quick look at the driver and unlatched the knife part. A silver blade slid smoothly out; the sun filtering through glinting off the curved blade. A small engraving was on the blade: 'Being normal is _vastly_ overrated,' –Debbie Ryan. Miles chuckled softly, the saying funny in its own way. The driver shifted in his seat, Miles hastily snapped the blade back in, and slid it back in his pocket. He hadn't noticed that they'd stopped.

"Alright, we're on Long Island, where to?" the man asked. Miles looked out the window again, and was found staring at a sunset over a vast ocean.

"This is good, thanks for the ride," Miles said, opening the door and catching the sweet smell of hot strawberries in the air.

"You sure?" the cabby asked. Miles nodded and walked away from the yellow taxi. The driver shrugged and drove away. What the driver couldn't see, Miles saw with perfect clarity. And it wasn't something he wanted to see. A bunch of kids in Greek armor were fighting twin bulls on a hill, right next to a giant pine tree. Three kids got out of a smoky grey cab; the cab looked as if it was made out of smoke. Two boys and a girl, but one of them had one eye, and the second boy with black hair uncapped a pen, and it grew into a bronze sword. The girl took out a bronze knife, and both of them charged up the hill to help out the other kids. The tall one with one eye seemed to hit an invisible wall when he tried to go after the two. Miles didn't waste any time. He ran after the two kids who joined the fighting. The bulls seemed to be bellowing fire out of their noses and gaping mouths. Miles sprinted past the tall boy, taking out his silver knife, unlatching it, and pressing a button shaped as a hoof on the white handle. The switch-blade grew and grew until Miles held a silver sword in his hand, the white handle starting to glow a blue radiance. The black haired kid charged a bronze bull, and it swept him aside like a bothersome fly. The bull was about to finish off the boy, when Miles yelled, "HEY! Garbage breath! Over here!"

The bronze bull turned in his direction, snorting fire. Miles waited patiently, sword hanging next to his side, beckoning the bull to charge at his chest. The bull took the bait. It charged at Miles, bearing down on him with incomprehensible speed. The girl screamed something Miles couldn't hear, and the tall boy ran up the hill, shouting something also. Miles stepped to one side when the bull was almost on top of him, and slashed the bull's leg. The silver sword proved to be a little better than the bronze when it almost cut off the bull's leg. It limped to the tree, then stumbled and rolled down the steep hill. The one-eyed kid caught up with it and pummeled it with his fists, crumpling the bronze like tinfoil. Miles felt slightly sorry for the bull, but the sympathy evaporated like water when the second bull rammed into him, sending Miles flying. Miles flew into the tree, smacked against it, and slid down it. A sharp pain in his left arm made his yelp. Miles's glasses were knocked clean off his face, landing in his lap. His sword lay five feet away, right next to the black haired kid. Miles shook his head, trying to clear double vision. He felt around himself for his glasses, putting them on when he found them. Miles looked up and watched the tall boy crumple the second bull when it had charged the second boy, who was up and fighting again better than Miles had ever seen anyone. Except….Luke. Miles pushed the thought away. It was too painful. The kid lobed off parts of the bull while the tall one crumpled the bronze. Miles tried to get up, but a wave of nausea overcame him, making him lean against the tree and catch his breath. The girl from the cab came over and steadied him.

"You alright?" She asked. Her voice seemed familiar to Miles, but he couldn't place where it came from. Miles nodded, unable to form words. He pointed to the silver sword still where it landed. The girl nodded and made sure he wouldn't fall before running to the sword. She tried to pick it up, but it was too heavy for her. Miles dropped to his fours, and crawled to the sword. At his touch, it shrunk back to a switch-blade. He sat down with a grunt and put the knife in his pocket. The girl helped him up with one hand.

"That's an interesting knife," She said, nodding to his pocket. Miles started to nod, but it only increased his headache.

"Yeah, my mom gave it to me," Miles said.

"It's sorta like my friend Percy's pen. When he takes the cap off, it grows into a bronze sword called, um, what was it?" She looked sincerely puzzled.

"Riptide, Annabeth. I thought I told you?" The black haired kid named Percy walked up to her. Miles perked up.

"Your name's Annabeth?" He asked suddenly. Annabeth turned back to him in surprise.

"Yeah, why?" She asked. Miles tried to remember why the name was so important, but it made his headache worse. Miles felt woozy.

"I, I…., Oh shoot," He muttered before sinking to the ground, passed out. Annabeth and Percy stared at him.

"I didn't do anything did I?" She asked Percy. He shook his head.

"No, I think the bull hit him too hard. Let's get him to Chiron. Did you get his name?" Annabeth shook her head. Percy sighed and took one of Miles's arms, Annabeth took the other.

Miles woke up with such a bad headache; he wanted to pass out again. But, he opened his eyes, and his vision turned blurry. Miles impatiently sighed. He reached next to him and got his glasses, putting them on. The whole room came into focus. A centaur stood by the doorway, talking to Annabeth.

"Where did he come from?" the centaur asked her. She shook her head.

"I don't know. I was running up the hill with Percy when he just turned up behind me. He had a silver sword that can change into a switch-blade also," She said. Miles sat up with one hand, his left in a sling.

"Actually it's the other way around," he grunted. Both of them jumped. The centaur recovered first, straightening the brown tweed jacket he wore, and clopping over to Miles's bedside. Annabeth leaned against the doorframe, watching Miles with intelligence that seemed familiar.

"Hello young man, my name is Chiron," The centaur said, extending a hand. Miles clasped it with his own, shaking it firmly before dropping his hand.

"Hi," Miles said, smiling a little, "I know who you are. Every demigod does."

Chiron was taken aback by the reference. Annabeth leaned a little closer into the room. Chiron leaned forward.

"You know you're a demigod?" Chiron asked, "Do you know who your god parent is?"

Miles shook his head no.

"My mom took care of me until I was five, then she remarried and ignored me most of the time. I ran away when I was seven, and survived on my, uh, own, ever since." Miles said, rubbing his messy head.

"Wow," Miles continued with a slight chuckle, "I took a good hit didn't I? I guess I won't be the best matador in town."

Annabeth couldn't help but smile. Even Chiron had to struggle with keeping his face straight.

"May I ask what your name is?" Chiron said, still restraining the smile.

"My name's Miles Therion," He said after a nod. Annabeth's foot slipped, making her yelp as she fell. Miles was halfway out of the bed two seconds after she slipped. He was still wearing the clothes he had on when the flaming bronze bulls attacked. Chiron turned around, a puzzled look on his face as his head turned from Miles to Annabeth. Miles shakily stood on the ground, using the bed as leverage to hold himself up.

"You okay?" Miles asked Annabeth. She nodded, getting up and walking over to Chiron.

"Can I talk to Miles alone for a minute?" She asked the centaur. He nodded and walked out of the room, his hoofs making clopping sounds as he went. Chiron closed the door, and Annabeth focused on Miles.

"Do you know me?" She demanded. Miles thought as hard as could, but couldn't place where he'd seen her before.

"I think I've seen you before, but I can't place where I've seen you," Miles lifted himself onto the bed, as confused as ever. Annabeth walked over to Miles and sat next to him on the bed.

"You sure?" She asked. Miles looked up and stared at the ceiling. He got an idea.

"What's your full name?" He asked, looking back down. Annabeth raised her eyebrows.

"Annabeth Chase. Why?" She said. Miles gasped.

"What?" She asked, alarmed now.

"I know why I know you!" He practically yelled, "I was with you, Thalia, Luke, and Grover! Remember?!" Annabeth's face slowly split into a wide grin. She looked at Miles from a new perspective.

"Miles?" She said. Miles split the widest grin she had ever seen. Miles started to laugh. Annabeth joined in, and the door opened. Percy came in. Miles and Annabeth continued to laugh, and Percy grinned.

"Why are you guys laughing?" He asked, laughing at the last word. Annabeth had tears in her eyes, laughing so hard she was clutching her stomach. Miles gasped, trying to stem the laughing fit.

"No reason," He gasped. Percy laughed at the sentence, and he soon joined the howling laughter. The laughing only stopped when Chiron came in, saying that the laughing was disturbing the other occupants and that Miles was free to go.


End file.
